


11. Eggnog

by greywolfheir



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Eggnog, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywolfheir/pseuds/greywolfheir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The holidays take a lot out of Crowley</p>
            </blockquote>





	11. Eggnog

Crowley hated and loved the holidays in equal proportion. Yes, it was fun seeing calm mothers turn to rampaging monsters when the store just happened to only have one item that two of them want. Yes, there were ways to make the caroling and angelic-ness part of Christmas so much fun—you just had to have imagination. Yes, the way Aziraphale lit up around Christmastime made life worth—er…At any rate, the holidays were just _exhausting._

Crowley had fun making the stores crowded, causing chaos wherever he went, but that didn’t mean he liked _experiencing_ it. Aziraphale, however, seemed determined to face the crowds despite the fact that he had the full capability of creating whatever he wanted. Crowley tagged along to cause mischief but he was regretting that decision.

“It’s just not part of the spirit,” Aziraphale was explaining as they went down the deserts aisle. Down at the end of it, a couple of men reached for the last gingerbread house kit at the same time. They looked at each other, and got _very_ angry. The both began a shouting match, but almost immediately one of them noticed the _other_ last gingerbread house kit that just happened to have gotten stuck behind a cake mix  box.  “And besides, here I can thwart all your holiday shopping wiles as well.”

Crowley frowned. “Yes but there’s no fun in that.”

“It’s our jobs. They aren’t supposed to be fun dear,” Aziraphale pointed out.

“Says you,” Crowley muttered with a sly grin, glancing at the angel’s backside as he continued walking down the aisle. If tempting a bookish angel counted as part of his job, it certainly couldn’t _be_ more fun.

 

* * *

 

Back in Aziraphale’s bookstore, Crowley had collapsed on the sofa, exhausted. In the store, there had been two shoplifters (with sudden guilty consciences who put things right back where they belonged), one whole wine rack had fallen over (but luckily, in the holiday spirit, everyone had joined together to clean it up—Crowley had to call Aziraphale out on that one), about ten crying babies (Crowley got them to shut up all on their own—a demon can only take so much), and plenty more than that. He was worn out and he needed a drink.

It was almost an unspoken agreement that that they’d had for years, and there was a very strict ritual about it. If they were apart, then they would go to one of their places (though it was typically Aziraphale’s) and without any need for excuses, they would simply get any sort of alcoholic beverage the “host” had, and they would simply let out their stress. It was a simple process, really, and yet somehow today it wasn’t right. And it was also attributed to the holiday season.

“Non-alcoholic eggnog?” Crowley said, holding the offending liquid.

“Well, dear, you know I have to keep up appearances, and buying alcohol isn’t very… _good_ ,” Aziraphale explained, taking the bottle and pouring it out

“Well that’s odd, since you seem perfectly fine _drinking_ it,” Crowley growled. “Speaking of which, you _do_ have something else to put in it, right?”

Aziraphale began to get twitchy, ultimately making Crowley get very irritated. “Well, dear, you know it _is_ the holidays, and I know I haven’t exactly been on top of my duties lately.”

“So that’s a no,” Crowley sighed. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to move.”

Aziraphale didn’t point out the fact that Crowley couldn’t get tired. He simply handed over the glass of eggnog. Crowley took it with a frown. While no, he couldn’t get tired, he definitely didn’t feel like using his wiles to change it into alcoholic eggnog. Sighing, Crowley took a sip…and sat up in surprise. This most certainly wasn’t alcohol-free eggnog. It was very-strong-alcohol eggnog. Crowley took another sip and looked over at the angel, who was trying very hard to keep his eyes on his own glass, but there was a smile on his face as well.

“Angel,” Crowley said to get his attention. When Aziraphale looked up with a blush, Crowley leaned forward and brushed his lips against the angel’s. Aziraphale looked absolutely baffled—but not angry

“I never should have doubted you, you bastard.”


End file.
